Just Like a Movie
by Ms. Vaughn
Summary: Youve got more to go back to, youve got a girl youre in love with at your home.' Tristans head had shot up. Hed never said he loved her.' One-shot, Tristan's back


**Title: **Just Like a Movie...

**Disclaimer: **All i own is the plot....

**Rating: **Hmpf...i guess it's got to be PG-13 for use of the f-word haha

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He was back. Once more returned to Chilton Academy. Chilton, god it wasn't even a real word. Seriously, look it up in any dictionary and good luck finding it. It was a city in Texas. Texas for god's sake! They were in Connecticut, why the hell would a school be named after a city way down south and way out west, miles and miles away?

He strutted through Chilton's doors for the first time in months. Strutted, sounded like something a bird would do, but it sure explained how he was walking. He was confident, some called him an arrogant bastard, and if they were describing the Tristan before he'd left they were probably right. Now, he wasn't as arrogant, yet still fully understood who he was....former King of Chilton. Stepping through the doors, he could feel the stares of the girls, amazed at his return.

There were two or three by one of the fountains that didn't mask their whispers very well, and he could hear them perfectly from where he stood. He could feel the gazes of some guys boring into him. Probably boyfriends of girls that wanted him. He strutted through the halls, thinking once more of the word, with a definition of something like a pompous gait. Damn, he sure was Mr. Webster today, with all his dictionary talk. He shook his head a little, then kept walking, heading towards the Ambrose building, and towards the headmaster's office, still soaking it all in.

The phoniness of it all drove him near mad. While at Military school one of the books on the reading list had been Catcher in the Rye. Such a typical book, but for once Tristan had actually read the assignment. Holden Caulfield, the main character, was as bitter as they come in Tristan's opinion, and he described everything as phony. Ever since, Tristan had always found himself watching something, whether it be girls at the mall, or the corridors at Chilton, and just thinking of the 'phony factor' of it all. It was really sad, how everyone pretended to be damn near perfect at the school. Like, just because the location and scenery was a picture from a damn book they all should be too.

High school was nothing but a game. Last time at Chilton, Tristan had dominated the game. He had appeared to win in every way possible, yet no matter how much action he got, he'd screwed things up and made a wrong move, ending up at military school. Now he was back, and perfectly content to play the same way he always had. Unfortunately, a year away had taught him that the way he used to play never made him happy, now he just had to decide what to do to make him happy.

Calling Tristan bitter wouldn't necessarily be true. Granted, he did have a some what critical look at certain things, but military school had supplied him with ample of time to 'think things over' as his father had put it.

Oh, he'd thought alright. Thought about his father, and thought about the damn image his family seemed to always be trying to keep up. Thought about Duncan and Bowman, and his stupid mistakes with them.

But most of all, he'd thought of Rory. It'd taken about three months to realize he wasn't going to stop thinking of her. Every time he'd start to think of her, he'd immediately go to the weight room, and start lifting weights, running, doing something to keep active, thinking that way he'd be concentrating more on the muscle strain then on the Mary who wouldn't leave his thoughts.

It hadn't helped any. Well, ok it had definitely helped him improve his upper body, but it'd done nothing to get her off his mind. If he was cheesy enough, he'd name his biceps after her since she was basically the cause for them.

There used to be two guys that spent even more time in the weight room then he did. Ron Turbine and Jamie Addison. Yeah, old Turbine and Addison had been real ass holes. I mean, Tristan had known he was a player, and known he treated most girls like shit, but these guys were grade A asses.

He'd never heard anyone say such mean things about girls and the way they fucked. Not only that, but they had no respect for any women for that matter. To say the least, it had turned Tristan off his old ways.

Anyway, Turbine and Addison were both there every damn day. Turbine was a beast, and his arms were loaded with muscle, his nightstands were full of body building magazines, and the rumor around school was that Turbine was there from getting caught using steroids. His muscles certainly reflected a choice like that. They were so big that when he flexed you could see the veins and everything popping out, it was pretty revolting. For that alone, most guys in the rooms were too afraid to tell him what an ass he really was. Turbine wasn't the guy to pick a fight with.

Addison, on the other hand, was somewhat of a weakling. He was always there, but never lifting much weight. They were the type of guys that named their biceps after people. Every time they were done with their workouts, they give each one a little kiss, then flex them. It was one of the most pitiful things Tristan had ever seen.

It was the arrogant jerks like them that made military school hell. Turbine and Addison weren't the only one's either. Two of the other guys in Tristan's dorm hall had been almost as bad. Landon Burgemyer had had no sense of integrity at all. Around instructors and parents he was a fucking gem, and he 'spent all of his time studying, and rarely got out to parties or social functions.' Yet, somehow, while in the dorms he did nothing but pick on everyone, and didn't study for shit, instead he had the smarter, geeky kids write his papers for him, and he bought copies of the tests to cheat with.

Then there was Michael Dolingson. The guy had integrity, but if anything that was even more of an insult. He was better then Burgemyer, because he didn't pretend to be something he wasn't, yet he was still a jack ass, because he _was _exactly who he said he was. He never pretended to study, or to be smart or caring. He was an ass, and he knew it yet did nothing about it. Nobody liked him much, and he knew it, yet didn't care. Tristan admired him for that--for like a day. Then, after witnessing Dolingson in the dorms, changed his admiration pretty quick.

Yeah, those four were some of the top arrogant jerks who had made him want to jump out a friggin' window.

But, it was people like Len Conroy that made it somewhat bearable. When Tristan had showed up at Oak Ridge he'd been the new kid. It was definitely different then Chilton, for he spent most of his nights alone. Not that he minded, he'd never needed the popularity that Chilton had insured him with.

Anyway, the first two weeks Turbine and Addison had been pretty bad, always calling Tristan preppy boy and all. Burgemyer and Dolingson hadn't paid much attention to him at all, not even really acknowledging him yet. But after that they'd all actually tried to be his friend. He'd been writing a paper for his English class, and they'd come over and sat on his bed, asking him about his best and worst lay. He'd told them to get a life, and to leave him alone. Of course that resulted in them calling him a virgin who couldn't score, which had actually made Tristan laugh.

The irony of the situation was not wasted on him. They were exactly like he'd been...only a few notches worse on the 'asshole scale'. I mean, he and his friends would occasionally discuss a girl's talent in the sheets, but Tristan was here because he and his friends were idiots, so it didn't take him long to realize that if he ever sounded like Addison and Turbine then he ought to change his personality pretty damn fast.

Len, one of the guy's in their room, had laughed when he'd blown off the two, and quickly come over and told him he was proud. Tristan liked Len, and he seemed like a pretty decent guy, and he wasn't so damn self centered. They actually got pretty close in the months spent at the school, and even though Len was from West Virginia, and they weren't exactly close neighbors, they still kept in touch. Len had kept him sane, and somehow kept him from turning into a Turbine or an Addison. Whenever Tristan went off in a 'rich boy rant' as Len had called it, he'd mellow him out and tell him not to be so damn self-centered and hot headed.

Len wasn't there for doing anything wrong. His Mother wasn't exactly a stable person to live with, so he often got shipped off to his Uncle's while his two younger brothers and his little sister got sent to other relatives. Len told Tristan that once his Uncle scored a new girlfriend, he hadn't even hesitated to send Len off to Oak Ridge. Len had revealed all of this during one of their talks. Tristan had never talked with his friends like he talked to Len, it was too...feminine. But now, they both needed someone to talk to, and they didn't hesitate to talk to each other on most occasions.

He'd even told Len about Rory. Well, he hadn't told him everything, but she came up...A LOT. About a month or two after Tristan figured he wouldn't get her off his mind, Len said something that just brought her into his thoughts even more. They'd been talking about going home, and Len had said something like "You've got more to go back to, you've got a girl you're in love with at your home." Tristan's head had shot up. He'd never said he _loved _her. Tristan didn't love girls, I mean he loved them, but for all the wrong reasons, he was never in love with them.

That had sure spent Tristan's head spinning, and for the next week he'd spent even more time in the damn weight room. He did love her, or at least he knew he cared more for her then he ever had for anyone else...and she'd become more then a conquest. And that was enough to make him want to stay at Oak Ridge forever, shitty as it was. Honestly, loving Gilmore scared him, because not only was it completely not him, but because she hated him, and because she was obviously so in love with her bag boy.

Len had once asked him why he went after all the other girls if he liked Rory. Well, hell there were many reasons. At first, it was just out of habit. Later on it became a ploy to get her jealous, which didn't work too well. His third excuse had been that it was easy. And that was the truth.

He didn't like to say it, but most of the girls at Chilton were easy in one way or another. All you had to do was smile real pretty, give them a few good lines, and basically you were set. Not saying that Tristan slept with all of his dates, although he did get a fair amount of action with most of them, but sometimes he felt as if he might as well blurt out "So is it safe to say I'm gonna score?!".

That was pretty much it, he'd spent so much of his time pining after Rory that he'd just decided to go after anything with a skirt to get his mind off of her, and to convince himself he was doing it for the same reasons as he always had.

He finally approached the headmaster's wing, and without knocking he strode in. The same old secretary was sitting out there, hair in a bun and a sharp face staring at him. "Tristan Dugrey." He said.

"Oh, Headmaster Charleston is expecting you. He'll be ready in a few minutes, please sit down."

Tristan nodded then sat down in one of the overly expensive red leather chairs as the secretary disappeared into Headmaster Charleston's office. He ran his fingers through his now much shorter blond hair that was finally starting to grow back. His father had thrown a fit when he'd seen that Tristan had shaved it off. That had just shown what an idiot his father was for thinking that Tristan would get special treatment at a military school. He was treated like all the other guys there, and it didn't matter how much money his father had in his banking account. That alone had been a learning experience for Tristan.

"He's ready to see you now." She said, emerging. Tristan nodded then, standing up and striding into the office.

He entered the room, staring at Headmaster Charleston. He hadn't changed at all, his hair was still the same white color, he hadn't lost any more of it, and he'd even managed to not put on any weight over the year.

"Tristan." He greeted, standing in his chair to shake the boys hand.

"Sir." Tristan said, standing until the headmaster seated himself, then sitting in the plush leather chair across the desk.

"You've grown." He stated simply. He was right, Tristan had shot up, and was now about 6'2.

Around the same height as_ bagboy._ Ugh. He wondered if Rory was still with that jackass. It'd been hell confronting him at the dance. Looking back Tristan wanted to cringe at how Dean had towered over him. Tristan probably could have fought Dean successfully, but he would have gotten pretty banged up himself. Now...well now Tristan was taller, stronger, and if possible he hated Dean even more after a year of dwelling over the guy. Yeah, if bag boy provoked him now he'd definitely take him.

"I'll tell you now that you're lucky to even be allowed back on school grounds after that stunt you pulled." Headmaster Charleston said, getting right to the point.

"I understand that sir, and I appreciate the chance."

"I'll be quite honest with you, if it were up to me you would not be returning to Chilton this semester. However, the board also gets a say in this, and they have voted in your favor." Tristan nodded solemnly. He knew why he was here, it was because of the Dugrey fortune. Headmaster Charleston was far too respectful to take bribes, but the board knew how much his father invested in the school, and they also knew that the year of Tristan's absence they hadn't the generous donations.

"I realize this, sir."

The man studied him, wondering if he understood the gravity of the situation. "This is your last chance, Mr. Dugrey. Failure is a part of life, but not a part of Chilton. You won't fail again, understood?"

"Understood." Tristan stood, shook them man's hand, then after getting all the papers needed for his classes, was back in the halls. First class, Spanish 5. He slowly entered the class, the astonished gazes and whispers not lost on him. He'd expected their reactions.

After handing a note to the teacher, and being directed to his seat he glanced around the room, checking for the only person he cared about seeing at Chilton. Where was she? He knew she was in Spanish 5, and he knew that Senora Gasser was the only teacher of Spanish 5, and that she only had one class of it.

He glanced around the room, tuning out the Senora's Spanish instructions. As the bell rang he stood up, coming face to face with none other then Paris Gellar. He prepared himself, putting on his most charming smile. "Paris, how are you?"

She glanced him up and down. "We got an A on the play, Romeo, your mistake didn't hurt us at all."

God, was she still holding onto this?! "That's good to know, I'm glad." She hadn't changed one bit, but for some reason he liked the idea of that. I mean, Paris could use some time to relax and chill, but her high strung demeanor was just her.

"So am I. So, didn't see her, did you?" Tristan's eyes narrowed a little as he looked at Paris.

"See who."

Paris just smiled, shaking her head. "God, it's been a year and you still love her, pathetic." With that she turned and strode out of the class. Tristan stood there, shocked.

"Usted tenga la clase, Senor Dugrey." Tristan glanced at his Spanish teacher, then back at the clock. She was right, he did have class. He thanked her then slowly walked to his next class, still thinking about how Paris, of all people, had known.

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As the final bell for the day rang, he headed straight for Paris's locker. The more he'd thought about it over the day, the more mad he'd gotten. He strode down the halls, knowing that her locker assignment wouldn't have changed.

Suddenly, however, a blond intercepted him. "Tristan...you're back." He glanced down at her.

"Hi Louise."

"Hey." She said sultrily, leaning into him suggestively. "I'd heard you were back, just had to see for myself." She said, checking him out. Tristan held back a light smirk, she was certainly seeing. Well, time certainly hadn't changed her either.

"It's true, I'm back."

"Which is a _very _good thing. Did you miss me?"

He looked down and gave her a tight smile. "You know it. Sorry, but I've got to go find Paris." He said, striding down the hall once more. Louise stared after him, and eyebrow raised, she'd certainly have something to share with the girls tonight on the phone.

Tristan found her at her locker, loading countless amounts of papers and books into her backpack. "How'd you know." He demanded, slamming hi hand against the locker.

"Calm down, Romeo." Oh God, like this nickname wouldn't get old fast.

"How did you know, Paris? How did you know when I didn't even know till after I was gone!" Paris stood up, her eyes level with his.

"It's true then?" She asked, challenging him.

Tristan looked down. "I don't know..." He denied.

She studied him, seeing he was sincere. God, the guy had obviously changed. Staring into his eyes, which said it all, she shrugged. "It's..." She bit her lip, trying to find a way to explain. "It's just like a movie. You know? Right from the beginning, you can tell who loves who, you can tell before the character in the movie even realizes it. Even when they miss it at first, when they look back, they wonder why they hadn't noticed before, how they could miss it when it was so obvious to anyone who looked closely."

Tristan leaned against the locker, hitting his head back into it. "This isn't me."

Paris looked at him, her opinion of him changed. "No, the King of Chilton isn't you. Before Chilton, you were never like that. Listen, Gilmore's home sick." Paris said, digging a bunch of papers out of her backpack. "Some of her teachers asked me to bring her the assignments." Paris said, placing the papers and an address into his hands, then started walking off.

"Hey, Paris."

"Yeah?"

"So you DO watch romantic movies?" He asked, a small smile playing across his lips.

She narrowed her eyes, "Please, I was bored with nothing better to do and 400 satellite channels at my disposal."

He raised his eyebrows, obviously not believing her. She just huffed, "Tell anyone and you die." Then left Chilton, heading for her car. Tristan smiled a little, then looking down at the papers in his hands took a deep breath.

Just Like a Movie... Well, every movie has a turning point. He thought to himself, heading for his car.

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**A/N**:

Alright there it was...I know the majority of you are probably thinking "Why the hell is she diong this instaed of Only hope?! But the truth is, the chapter of that i hvae to write is a angsty one, and i've had enough angst this week, i jsut wasn't up for writing more this weekend. I'm sorry, but maybe by next weekend i'll be more up for it.

As for this story, i know there wasn't any trory interaction, but i liekd where i ended this. It's currently a one shot but i might continue it if i get a burst of inspiration.


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